


What Lurks Beneath the Mask of "Normality".

by TypicalRoleplaySession



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Has OCD, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Swears, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, POV Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Past Relationship(s), Psychological Trauma, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 06:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypicalRoleplaySession/pseuds/TypicalRoleplaySession
Summary: Levi Ackerman was admitted into a psychiatric hospital because of his depression and OCD. Oh yeah, he also tried to kill himself. That was fun.He's gotten used to life inside these walls; even though he doesn't necessarily believe he's gotten any better. He was dealing with the death of his partner, sue him. His memories tormented him... but maybe he could be distracted by a young man named Eren Yeager, who just joined in his group therapy.Maybe even learn to love again, knowing the pain of loss.





	What Lurks Beneath the Mask of "Normality".

He was admitted two weeks and three days ago. Levi has gotten used to the rigorous schedule: Wake up at 8am, take meds, breakfast at 9:00am with a half an hour deadline to finish, free time until 11:00am Occupational Therapy, lunch is at 1:30pm with the same deadline, three hours with your therapist afterwards, free time then dinner which is at 7:00pm, though there isn’t a specific time for lights out, the lights go off at 10:00pm, the cycle repeats. There is group therapy once every week; today is that day this week, it replaced the three hours with their therapists. He hated group therapy more than individual, for good reason.

Levi Ackerman was 26 years old when he was admitted to a psychiatric hospital by his roommate who witnessed him trying to kill himself. It was merely a side effect of his severe OCD, he assured him. He was haunted by memories while he was awake, another side effect of his severe OCD. His life had always been different and difficult. It was nothing unusual. Didn’t know his father, lost his mother when he was 10, then was passed along to his alcoholic abusive uncle. Learned to fight, which helped him in the long run from escaping unscathed from fighting his uncle during his drunk episodes, stealing when he purposefully wasn’t being fed. Fought in the slums, where he had saved two other kids his age who were in an inferior gang. Those two other kids ended up being his two closest friends, one ending up his fiancé.

It was their last year of middle school when they all met. Isabel Magnolia was an energetic, headstrong girl with her red-brown hair in pigtails and green eyes. Furlan Church was the opposite, more like him, a level-headed and calm boy with dark blonde hair with his bangs hung over his forehead in the middle, between his light grey eyes. They ended up going to the same high school and during sophomore year Furlan took Levi out on a date and asked to be his boyfriend, he said "yeah". Isabel told them she was happy it finally happened because it was painful to watch Furlan being so miserably lovelorn. The doofus just smiled, looking totally complete.

In the middle of their college years, Levi moved out into an apartment with Furlan and Isabel along with a new roommate named Erwin Smith, Levi and Furlan were still going strong and he was convinced to get matching tattoos. They got it on their inner wrists, Levi’s right and Furlan’s left, a black equal sign. It was simple with a meaning, though Furlan went the extra step by having “Levi” written in cursive underneath it. He would’ve gotten his initials, but he didn’t want anyone to point out it meant Los Angeles to everyone besides his Levi Ackerman. Levi didn’t know how to feel; he was thankful he didn’t go with the initials, he knew that much. But it wasn’t what they planned. Furlan assured it was fine to not get his name underneath it, he played it off as “I have a good feeling about us…I want this to be permanent because, knowing me, I might lose the wedding ring I’d bought” his non-wrapped hand rubbing the back of his neck and smile as wide as ever. Levi felt better, not enough to do the same for him, but actually happy. He was going to marry this man.

Getting out of college at 24 with certified to teach History at the high school level, he searched for a teaching position while continuing to work as a barista. Furlan graduated with the requirements of being a Paralegal, working part-time as a waiter as he secured a full-time job with his degree involved quick enough to quit his part time after a month. Levi had a bit more difficulty, being young for teaching standards, however managed to snag a position and was pretty damn good at his job to stop being a sub. A month after his 25th birthday was when Furlan popped the question in their shared living room, the ring simple and gorgeous, Levi nodding his head before saying yes and watched in awe as the ring was slid on his finger. Erwin had come home to find Isabel sobbing like a dying whale into Furlan’s shoulder, Levi tucked against his fiancé with glassy eyes, Furlan holding him and his other arm around Izzy with tear streaks and a smile. Immediately noticing him, he informed him “He said yes”. Not like the ring couldn’t tell him so.

As life started to pick up, they decided to give it some time before choosing a date and planning for it. Firstly, they both still had student loans so they had to get on that before saving up for something like a wedding, even if it was going to be small. Second, they had been dating for about 10 years before getting engaged, they figured they had plenty of time. How wrong they were.

It was a weekend. Levi was cleaning the apartment, he liked being thorough as he found it calming, he checked his cell phone to see a message from Furlan saying “Heading home. Why are people such idiots when water is falling from the sky?” Levi hummed, texting him back “Don’t be an idiot texting and driving, there is water falling from the sky.” Putting it back into his sweats pocket, he takes a seat on the couch and starts a movie on Netflix that seemed half interesting while he waited for Furlan to get home and entertain him. That was until he heard a crash, their intersection seemed to have the most accidents. Curious, he got up and looked out the window to feel his heart drop and get burned in his stomach acid. That was the same model of their shared used silver Ford collided with a red Toyota, the Toyota t-boning the Ford. No, please.

Not giving a single fuck how he looked, he took the stairs getting out of his apartment and ran down the block to find his heart burning faster when he stopped. It was so cold, the rain already fully soaking him, he immediately ran to the collision recognizing the license plate on the Ford. Getting to the driver side his hand slaps over his mouth when he sees Furlan, his head against the shattered window, eyes closed and blood on his face and his hair.

He didn’t know how long he stood there staring, his breath hitching when he sees Furlan’s head move but before he can speak he hears “Back away, son.” It was a paramedic. He realized that there was an ambulance, a police car and two other onlooking neighbors in the complex who had to be the ones who called. The sirens were suddenly clear when Furlan was lifted out gingerly and his grunt was audible. He was placed on a gurney, a second paramedic appearing and asking him who he was and to give him space. Telling her that he was his fiancé, his head snaps to Furlan when he mumbles. Opening his eyes slightly he mummers “Levi”, his hand automatically goes to his, where their tattoos are closest to each other. Being allowed into the ambulance, he’s stubborn and only moves his hand when it’s absolutely necessary for his vitals. Levi’s heart was fished from his stomach but it’s dangling by a string above the acid as the paramedics speak quickly about how he’s not looking good. 

He reaches down and pets Furlan’s hair where it was clean, only for his free hand to come back covered in his blood and he feels sick. Furlan’s fingers give their intertwined ones a gentle squeeze, a painful smile forms on his face. Levi realizes what he’s trying to do, he shakes his head furiously. He squeezes his hand back gently, not missing Furlan’s fingers twitch at it, Furlan holds his hand with all his might in response. Once he stops from pulling his all in the hold and his breath comes out like an exaggeration, a more natural smile appears and his eyes seem to lighten as he looks at Levi before they slipped close and the grip on his hand slowly loosens as his heart beats slower until…nothing. They shock him to keep him alive until they arrive at the hospital, by then Levi is told to stay in the waiting room and he’s trying not to cry because he knew that was Furlan’s way of saying goodbye. He just couldn’t accept that. He needed to punch something, something to distract him from the burning sensation in his throat. He looked down at his shaking, curled up hands. His left hand which had his engagement ring, then his right hand which was covered fully in his blood as well as half of the tattoo. That hand twitched, the blood was going to dry. He was used to getting his hands bloody when he was younger, it never belonged to his fiancé though. It was always disgusting, the bacteria…but this was too much.

After furiously washing the blood off his hand, he marches out of the hospital down a few blocks to a junkyard. He starts smashing things people threw out like broken lamps and a few broken cars with a lead pipe; he surprisingly found that it wasn’t as satisfying as using his fists. It was animalistic, yet he looked at his hands and they tingled from the effort and like he was feeling the germs coat him like water would a shower. Or water falling out of the sky. He ran, he ran back to the hospital and washed his hands and squirted about three handfuls of their hand sanitizer before he felt okay enough to call Isabel and Erwin and tell them what happened, although he tried the tears fell anyway.

‘Okay’ wasn’t a manageable thing, most of the time. Things seemed to get worse. After the hospital did declare him dead, Levi had gotten into an engagement gift of champagne he got from a coworker and drank half of the bottle in a few minutes. He would’ve drunk it all if Erwin wasn’t there, Izzy asked to be left alone. Granted, Levi did too, but Erwin had caught him grabbing the bottle. It wasn’t his problem, why he couldn’t stay out of it then didn’t make sense. That was until the attempt.

Something just snapped. Going through his birthday and Christmas was hard work enough, don’t even get him started on their private memorial, Levi was cleaning when he stumbled on something. Firstly, he found Furlan’s engagement ring, he remembered hiding it so out of sight out of mind, he found two books. One being his favorite, the first thing him and Izzy had stolen when they were in that rag tag gang, the second being a journal. Reading some of the contents he had to close it, holding it to his heart. Furlan usually read or wrote before sleeping, he didn’t know he wrote about them. It was full of such personal notes, from their beginning to even the week before he died. Along with his clothes in the attic…Levi’s gaze fell to his wrist. He had returned the favor. “Furlan” was written in cursive beneath the equal sign, his other hand grasped his wrist feeling his heart pound. He realized he hadn’t washed his hands after cleaning, now his wrist was dirty. 

He felt his skin crawling again, he was done. Done with this pain, done with this obsession, done with everything. He couldn’t do it anymore. How can he ever be okay enough to move forward? He took a break from teaching in person, he didn’t talk to any of the friends Furlan had gotten them, he could still barely look at Isabel not used to not seeing his fiancé next to her with his big, stupid, “complete” smile. So, he searched. How could he do it, everything was filthy or took too much time. They had no rope, he could hear Furlan joking with him how he’s too “fun sized” anyways, the hose was a no go. They only had five painkillers left in the bottle and no laundry detergent, Erwin was out grocery shopping, there was no other medication. He could get in his rental car and drive it into or off something, but that’d cost Erwin and Isabel and be a hassle. Jumping off the roof? Nope. Throwing himself at his neighbor’s dog? No. Kitchen knife was going to have to do. Grabbing the largest one he stares at it, tch-ing seeing it wasn’t clean. Izzy. Washing it off before setting it down and scrubbing his hands, he dried his hands and the knife with the towel before picking it back up. Ghosting it over his skin, narrowly missing his wrist as he trails it, he moves it to his neck and starts to press. Of course, Captain America had to barge in and stop him.

Furlan’s death was all his fault. He blamed the other driver at first but he died well before Furlan did, so who’s else’s fault could it be? He was the one that texted him while he was driving. He was the one that distracted him, if he didn’t just send that damn text. Apparently, these thoughts were a part of severe OCD too. He only found out when Erwin admitted him there with little notice, Isabel was crying when he told her what happened and she hugged Levi, he had become an older brother to her. Granted, it was a strained hug. So, he might’ve took a swung at Erwin with the knife still in his hand, out of reflex, it happens.

Having been checked of sharp objects or food, Levi brought his phone and headphones, a clean notebook, two mechanical pencils, Furlan’s journal and Furlan’s book, his items were deemed safe. It made him shiver, seeing the examiner touch all his and Furlan’s things he brought, he was stripped to his boxers too as apparently, they had to earn their way up to rights like wearing their own clothes or shoes with laces or going outside on their free periods. Furlan’s jacket and shirt was on the disgusting floor, his jeans being a bit less valuable to him when it came to cleanliness. To think it was Furlan’s blood which started all this…no, stop thinking about it. Being sent to a part of the hospital which held people admitted with Depression/Suicide Watch/OCD, they had diagnosed him with OCD right there and already concocted a smoothie of drugs to give to him, not sure how that was smart considering his roommate found him about to commit suicide, he was relieved to find his rooming was bearable. He had no roommates, it was simply a “clean” white room with a bed in the corner and a bathroom on the side with not door. He got to work quickly, once he asked about supplies and had to be watched over as he cleaned his new room three times over.

That led him to now. He got the privileges of wearing his own clothes, when they could have visitors he usually didn’t want to see Izzy but she brought him extra clothes as he felt sick wearing the same clothes every day even though it was Furlan’s. They got in the way, so his closet became mostly his own. Izzy said it’d help him move on, not like keeping them up in the attic for several months helped him move on. He needed a distraction, something to punch or to be surprised by, he didn’t know. He loved routine but he was sort of sick of it at the same time.

He hated group therapy for many reasons. One, new therapist. On top of that, Erwin started working at the hospital because it paid way more, however he couldn’t become his therapist because of the whole unprofessional work relationship, Levi’s therapist was Petra Ral. The therapist for this session he notices walking in is Eld Jinn, he heard and knows he’s nice, just repetitive and makes it impossible to dodge questions. It made sense, Levi wanted to get out of here by the next few months, he actually missed all the brats. Two, new people. For group therapy, they try to put new people together. Three, having to shake everyone’s hand. He had to suffer enough not being able to wipe down the cafeteria and the silverware well enough to eat his food under the time limit, he’s supposed to test himself how long he could not wash his hands for. It was part of his unofficial Exposure and Response Prevention therapy. Walking into the room and taking a seat, his hands intertwining firmly on his lap as he looked around. Everyone looked normal, but who knows what lurked beneath the surface.

His eyes fell on a man across from him, looking him up and down. He had tan skin, messy…black, maybe dark brown, hair that looks like it went through a wind tunnel and eyes like teal or turquoise green that stands out between the rest of his looks. He was quite attractive, though didn’t seem like the clean type. Well, no one can really be the clean type when Levi and all the other inmates with cleanliness OCD exist here.

He wonders what he was in for, though he guessed he'd learn all in due time. 

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies if I didn't portray mental institutions well in this; I did a limited amount of research, but I don't mean to offend anybody at all. It's a fantastic and honorable thing to do. Reaching out when you need mental help. Never be afraid to do that, even if it's just telling your friends or talking to a trusted adult in your life. 
> 
> One thing else to note, extremely off topic: I ship Levi/Eren significantly more than Furlan/Levi. However, I haven't been motivated enough to write passed this backstory. I likely won't continue this story to show their relationship develop, but you're more than welcome to if you'd like. 
> 
> BTW, in this fic, my headcanon was that Eren Yaeger was admitted due to extreme anger issues. Take that as you will. Hope you enjoyed!


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